David came to a halt, as did Brentford. Both men stared at Edward in horror. “Are you certain of this?” David hissed.
Edward nodded, his mood turning serious as the weight of his message settled. “I just heard it from one of William Marshal’s men,” he said. “The Marshal will not be in attendance this day. He has business to attend to.”
“I suspected as much,” David said pensively. “I wonder if he will send word to Eleanor after what happened last night?”
Edward cocked an eyebrow. “She is the mother of both Richard and John, and technically ruling in Richard’s stead,” Edward replied. “She will want to know of John’s attempt against Richard’s supporters last night. I cannot believe she would be completely oblivious to his actions, but in any case, William sent one of his men to find Chris to tell him of John’s mercenary knights but the man found me instead. That is why I was running to catch up with you and Chris – you both could quite possibly be facing an assassin today on horseback. God only knows what those bastards will do in the mass competition, fighting dirty whilst other men fight with honor. You know that the prince approached Marcus to champion him, do you not?”
David nodded grimly. “Aye,” he said. “Marcus told us everything last night before Chris’ wife was attacked. I am very aware that the prince has been trying to divide and conquer Chris’ men, starting with Chris’ best friend.”
Edward lifted his eyebrows ominously. “Thank God he has not been successful,” he said. “Even so, his subversion has cost Marcus the use of his right hand for now.”
Brentford, who had thus far been listening carefully, interrupted. “What happened to Burton?” he asked. “Why did he lose the use of his hand?”
David looked at him. “It is very complex,” he said, “but suffice it to say that John wanted Burton’s service so badly that he offered him a barony to leave Chris and represent the prince in today’s tournament. Burton accepted the offer because it was quite generous, but right after he accepted, he smashed his hand into the wall and broke nearly ever bone in it.”
Brentford was shocked. “Sweet Lord,” he murmured. “Why would he do such a thing?”
David had distress in his features. “For one very good reason,” he said. “He would not be forced to compete against my brother. A crippled knight cannot compete, you see, and the prince, unaware that Marcus deliberately broke his hand so he would be unable to compete against Chris, cannot take back the barony because if he does, it will look as if he purposely bribed Burton with it. Therefore, he cannot rescind his offer or all will know he only gave the man the title to coerce his loyalty.”
Brentford listened to the explanation, shaking his head with disgust. “But we all know it was a bribe,” he pointed out. “Did he not think Burton would tell others of the offer?”
David shrugged. “Possibly,” he said. “But even if Burton tells of the prince’s bribery attempt, John will deny it. It will be his word against Burton’s.”
In that case, it meant that the prince, being royalty, would be believed overall, including a reputable knight. Brentford was appalled. “Is there nothing that bastard won’t do in order to see Richard’s supporters defeated?” he asked rhetorically. “Now he has sucked Marcus Burton into his scheme and lies.”
Edward spoke this time, his gaze moving to David. “Chris’ brother will be next,” he muttered, hazard in his tone. “He wants you, David. With Marcus out of contention, his next target will be you.”
David was unimpressed. “He has yet to approach me because he knows what I will do if he does,” he said, resuming his walk to the field. “He will be fortunate if I do not cut his head off before the words are even out of his mouth.”
Edward, the most sensible and least likely to act before thinking of the de Lohr stable of knights, glanced at Brentford as he followed David down the sloping avenue. What David said was not a boast; it was the truth. David, more than any of them, was fearlessly unpredictable. He possessed bravery few men did and they all knew it.
“He knows,” Edward said quietly. “But be on your guard nonetheless, David. John is displaying his muscle for all to see.”
David was well aware of that. “What of Ralph?” he asked. “Has anyone seen him since last night?”
Edward shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “No one has seen any sign of Nottingham. I would be surprised if Ralph showed himself to day much less compete on the prince’s behalf after the beating Christopher gave him yesterday. And something tells me that John’s attacks last night might have also been in retaliation for said beating.”
David nodded, remembering the day before when Ralph had not only insulted his brother’s wife but had also killed one of her dogs. It had been a nasty confrontation and Christopher, like any good husband, had beaten the sheriff within an inch of the man’s life. Yesterday’s beating, as well as John’s thirst for Richard’s throne, all played a part in last night’s attacks. The politics of England these days were complicated as well as deadly.
“Aye,” he said slowly, with labored thought. “I have considered that as well. Vengeance for the beating my brother gave Ralph.”
“I would say that was as good a reason as any to attack Richard’s supporters last night,” Edward said. “Punishment on behalf of Fitz Walter. In any case, we must all be on our guard. I have a feeling this may get worse before it gets any better.”
At that point, there was nothing more to say on the subject. The stakes were higher than they’d ever been and there was a sense of apprehension as well as a sense of determination. The knights all knew what needed to be done. Therefore, David shifted his focus towards the sea of tents to the east of the tournament field. Many great houses had come for this tournament and with Windsor already full, men had taken to creating a tent city in the meadows and marshes east of the tournament field.
David, Brentford, and Edward stood at a fork in the avenues by the eastern gate, a vantage point by which to see the tournament field as it nestled in a meadow not far from the River Thames. With the clear weather, the vista of the countryside was quite impressive, and clear, and they could see dozens of tents off to the east.
Men and horses milled about the tents as great houses such as Derby and Bath, Warkworth, Ashford, and Gloucester prepared. Banners were snapping in the brisk breeze, identifying the different factions, and David realized that most of the standards he saw were of men loyal to Richard. Given what had happened the night before, and what could still happen, he thought it best to venture into the encampments and speak with some of the men. No telling what would come up this day and David thought it best to be prudent.
To warn them.
But what David didn’t know was that, at the moment, he too was being watched by a very predatory animal.
A woman.
*
The surcoat was a dark, rich red, the color of currants, made from the finest wool. The bodice was tight, embroidered with golden thread that her nurse had so lovingly stitched. This was the same nurse who would spit profusely when she spoke, spraying everyone and everything within range. Still, she was a loving woman and whenever Emilie wore the garment, she thought of Nurse Lillibet.
Lillibet had been a novice nun before Emilie’s mother had acquired her services as a nurse, and she had literally raised Emilie and her sisters. In fact, Emilie had looked upon Lillibet as her mother more than the woman who gave birth to her, a rather sickly woman who died when Elise, the youngest sister, had been an infant. The girls even called Lillibet ‘Mother’ although she really wasn’t.
It was an odd dynamic but it was how they felt about the woman, and no one ever really spoke of Lady Willow de Norville Hampton these days. Her memory was long gone, now an emotionless reflection and little more, although Lyle had mentioned on more than one occasion that Emilie looked a great deal like her. Sometimes Emilie even saw something in his eyes when he looked at her, a hint of the love he’d once had for his Willow. But the look was quickly gone and it was somethin
g Lyle never discussed, especially since he had taken Lillibet to his bed and thought his girls didn’t know about it.
But they knew. It was impossible not to know in the close-knit world of Canterbury Castle. Lyle had been taking his children’s nurse to his bed for as long as the girls could remember, until they were old enough to understand what was occurring between their father and their nurse. Only when an elderly house servant pointed out the obvious were their suspicions confirmed. In fact, Emilie was fairly certain that Lillibet had been pregnant a few years ago because the woman put on weight around her mid-section and then went away for a time, to visit her father she had said, and returned quite slender a couple of months later. But no mention was ever made of any child and neither Emilie or her sisters saw the need to bring it up. It was an open secret they never discussed, for they loved Lillibet very much.
In fact, Emilie’s gaze was fondly on Lillibet at this moment as she sat in the carriage that was festooned with regalia from the House of Hampton. Lillibet was sitting towards the rear of the carriage with two big slobbering dogs and Elise, the youngest daughter who had seen fourteen years, pointing out the sights of the village to her. Lillibet would point, spit would fly from her lips, and Elise would simply wipe her cheek off. It was simply a normal conversation when it came to Lillibet, something all of the girls were used to.
“I am so glad Papa decided to remain at Windsor,” Nathalie, the middle sister, leaned over and muttered to her sister. “After what happened last night, I was positive we would be leaving this morning. I would be heartbroken to miss seeing all of the knights today.”
Emilie’s focus came away from the dogs, Lillibet, and Elise to look at her sister; tall, brunette, and pretty, Nathalie had just turned sixteen years of age in the summer and at this point in her life, everything revolved around men. It was all she spoke of. Therefore, the subject she spoke of was not unexpected.
“Papa is fearful for our safety,” Emilie said, looking to her father riding astride his big brown horse up by the wagon driver. “But he promised David de Lohr that he would not leave, so that is why we remained. Also, Papa and Brick very much to compete in the tournament so I think it was difficult to pass on the opportunity to see victory for the House of Hampton in front of the whole of England.”
Nathalie leaned her head out of the wagon, looking up to the head of the column where her father’s commander, Sir Brickley de Dere, was riding astride his feisty roan charger. The animal was muzzled, and controlled with a heavy bit, but he was still giving Brickley a good deal of trouble. The big knight was wrestling with him. She sighed dreamily.
“I should very much like to see Brick win today,” she said to her sister. Then, she leaned in on Emilie. “Do you think he will carry my favor? I am coming to think that he may have some interest in me, you know. He smiled at me this morning and he does not usually do that.”
Emilie looked at her sister, trying not to smile at her hopeful tone. “Brick is much older than you are,” she said tactfully. “In fact, his son is Elise’s age. I do not think he is looking for another wife. I have told you this and so has Papa.”
Nathalie would not be deterred. “His wife died six years ago,” she said. “You would think the man would be ready by now.”
Emilie patted her sister’s hand. “You cannot blame him,” she said. “It is hard to think of you as wifely material after years of practical jokes on the man. That is what he knows of you, Nat.”
Nathalie turned her nose up at her sister primly and looked away. “I do not do such things any longer,” she said. “I am a woman now. Women do not do such things.”
Emilie knew that wasn’t exactly true. Nathalie and Elise were both known to do terrible things to the men of Canterbury Castle, such as pulling strings across doorways to watch them trip or putting bees into the pockets of unsuspecting soldiers. Lyle would yell at them, punish them by confining them to their chambers for a day, but he had never been particularly hard on his daughters in any case. The result was that Nathalie and Elise were much feared among the inhabitants of Canterbury, mostly because their pranks could be vicious and the earl didn’t seem to care.
It was something that Nathalie was trying to outgrow. Sixteen years of age was a pivotal age, a young woman in fact, and she didn’t want to be treated like a child any longer. But that childish streak was still in her. Emilie realized it even if Nathalie didn’t.
“Give Brick time, sweetheart,” Emilie said. “If you are truly serious about him, then it will take time. He must look at you as a young woman and not a child, and that will not be an easy thing for him.”
Nathalie wasn’t particularly comforted by that. Frustrated, she crossed her arms irritably and looked out over the town, watching the villagers go about their business. It was a colorless little village peppered with business and residences. Nathalie peered at a man with dancing dogs as the carriage lurched past, something even Elise was greatly interested in when she caught sight if it. Elise even pointed out the dancing canines to the two big dogs that sat on either side of her in the carriage as if the dogs knew what she was talking about, spoiled beasts that belonged to the youngest Hampton sister and even ate at the family table.
Nathalie watched her sister kiss and hug the big dogs for a moment before her attention fell upon a rather large merchant with all manner of goods hanging on the exterior of his business. Pre-made dresses, cloaks, and other things caught her eye. Along with men, Nathalie was also greatly interested in pretty things. She cried out to her father.
“Papa!” she said. “May we stop, please? Look at that merchant! Look at his wonderful things!”
Lyle heard Nathalie’s voice and turned to see what had his daughter so excited. The sun was bright on this clear fall day and he had to shield his eyes from the glare in order to see what she was pointing at. It was then he saw the large merchant with his wares displayed and, as Emilie also asked to stop, he relented without any protest and brought the column to a halt.
Brickley, up at point, directed his foaming beast next to Lyle and, with a few words from his liege, dismounted his horse and handed the reins off to the nearest soldier. The big knight approached the wagon.
“Come along, ladies,” he said, unlatching the rear door and shoving the eager dogs aside as they tried to escape. “Come and see if you must. Hurry, now. We have places to go, so do not linger overly.”
Nathalie was already up, smiling sweet at Brickley, who took her hand politely and helped her down from the carriage. As she scurried over to the merchant, Emilie was right behind her. Brickley caught sight of the eldest Hampton daughter and his smile turned genuine as he helped her down from the carriage.
“Careful, now,” he said to her. “Careful that your sister isn’t looking for itching powders or something that magically bursts into flame. She will use that against us.”
Emilie laughed softly; she genuinely liked Brickley, a big man, muscular and seasoned, with short brown hair and big blue eyes. He was handsome in a rather mature sort of way and she’d known the man over half her life. He was like family to her.
“I have told you many times, Brick,” she said. “Whatever she does to you, you must do it back. No one has ever been brave enough to give her a taste of her own medicine so whatever she uses against you, give it back to her tenfold. You must learn to fight back.”
Brickley snorted. “I would except for the small issue of your father, who might not take kindly to revenge against his daughter,” he said. Then, he sobered. “I have not had a chance to ask you how you are feeling this morning after the events of last night. Are you sure you are well?”
Emilie nodded. “I am well,” she said, looking at the sorrowful expression on his face. She knew what was on his mind. “Brick, there was nothing you could have done. You were trying to fight off an entire horde of men when I was grabbed. What happened with me was not your fault. I am well, am I not? Everything is fine. You should not feel guilty.”
Brickley grunted
softly, averting his gaze. “It is my duty to protect you and your sisters,” he said. “But David de Lohr had to do it. I cannot help but feel ashamed.”
Emilie put her hand on his arm. “Do not,” she said. “Let us instead be grateful that we all emerged with our lives. And we should also be grateful that God put David de Lohr in the right place at the right time.”
Brickley shrugged; he wasn’t ready yet to be comforted from last night’s ordeal. As Hampton’s commander, he was feeling guilty about the entire thing. He was also feeling the least bit apprehensive about what the day would bring with the prince on the offensive against Richard’s supporters. But he nodded because Emilie was nodding. He smiled wanly.
“I suppose you are right,” he said. “I did not have the opportunity to thank de Lohr last night. I will do so when I see him today.”
The mention of David de Lohr brought back Emilie’s interest of the man. In fact, she’d been thinking of him quite heavily this morning, her mysterious savior, and her heart fluttered just a bit at the mention of his name.
“Do you know him, then?” she asked casually.
Brickley nodded. “I knew him before he went on crusade with Richard,” he said. “But that was nearly five years ago. I have not seen him since he and his brother returned.”
Emilie pretended to be interested without looking like she was very interested. It was a fine line to walk. “Where did you first meet David and his brother?” she asked. “Of course, I have heard the de Lohr name but last night was the first time I ever saw either brother in action. I must say that David was quite impressive when he ran to my defense. He fought of three men with relative ease.”
Brickley took her by the elbow and helped her cross the muddy street to towards the merchant stall on the other side, dodging men and horses as they moved.
“David and Chris are younger than I am,” he said, watching Emilie grin and then he grinned as well. “I know; everyone is younger than I am. That is what you were going to say, isn’t it?”
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 111
